


When Life Gives You Lemons, Squeeze Them In Life's Optics

by CybertronianBeing



Series: The Never-Ending Adventures of BBop & Streamline [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Lemon, My First Smut, Seekers, Sexual Interfacing, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Transformers Spark Bonds, Valve Fingering (Transformers), Valve Play (Transformers), Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:53:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28990995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CybertronianBeing/pseuds/CybertronianBeing
Summary: "I love you more.""Prove it."
Relationships: Original Cybertronian Character(s)/Original Cybertronian Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Series: The Never-Ending Adventures of BBop & Streamline [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163519
Kudos: 3





	When Life Gives You Lemons, Squeeze Them In Life's Optics

**Author's Note:**

> Does this count as lemon with no plot? Idk,, it had a purpose so,,, whatever. ALSO IT'S KINDA BLEH BUT IM PROUD OF IT SO :)

Sharp sparks lit up the dim room. Through their visors, everything sat less bright than originally ordained by the servos of he who created them. A quick drag of the edge of the sharpening tool. 

Slide. Slide. 

BBop’s voice wasn’t exactly monotonous, it stuck to Streamline’s audials like something meaningful on a school project under the influence of glitter glue. Yes, the point still stands that there wasn’t a place she’d rather be than in the presence of that wrecker. However, silence...perhaps wouldn’t have been such a bad thing?

Some semblance of peace? Nothing but the tippity-tappety of BBop’s digits on the datapad and Streamline’s quick rakes of the tool against her sword’s edge until it was to her liking...which would take awhile. 

Different subjects flowed from BBop’s intake. Something about a sports match or a dream or a sports match in her dream or something to that effect…

“BBop—do you ever, like, not talk?” Streamline’s answer held no malice or negativity, and with a grin she looked up from the glowy sword that lit her faceplate and aura with a pretty hue. 

The bond bounced with mock-surprise, “I mean, not really—sometimes while you’re sleeping, I guess. When I’m in recharge it’s kinda hard to talk a lot.”

“Well, if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna make you.”

“Oh, really? Is that so? How do you plan to do that?”

“It’s hard to talk when you’ve got my intake on yours,” A little chill down BBop’s spinal strut but she couldn’t let Streamline see that. That was giving up the upper hand that she already had. 

“Yeah? Big talk for a small lightweight with preoccupations. Got stuff to do...”

“You’re stuff.”

A nasal-y snort. That was...actually funny?

“I love you, stupid lightweight,” BBop returned to typing away reports long overdue in Commander Magnus standards. She thinks he needs to lay off a little bit. Chillax. Take a chill pill or drink some high-grade or whatever. Visit Blurr’s tavern—who the frag cares.

“I love you more.”

“Impossible. Prove it.”

Wings perked the same way they did when she got determined, Streamline stood abruptly and tossed her things aside and approached. Long strides eroded muscular pedes that rippled in response to processor firings. 

“You want me to prove it?”

“Yes, in fact I do.”

Their faces suddenly wired tensely only millimetres away from each other. The bubbly constance of the drink BBop had been sipping on swig by swig fragranced Streamline’s field and tampered with her breath. The sweet, drawing woodsmoke pulled her even closer, taking the datapad and replacing it in BBop’s servos by herself. Hot embers burned their insides, warming charge to a height. 

Frames so close, Streamline’s pine and evergreen poured like maple syrup to slow the wrecker’s movements to stick to every cable and gear. Warm and embalmed skin touched hungrily and Streamline’s lips slammed into the other’s like it was the last time she’d ever be able to so. 

Careful, meticulous exploration barely even clicked the dentas’ edges in BBop’s intake. Soft glossa mixed and tasted punchy, sparkling carbonation and sparked smugness anew in her partner. 

Streamline intended to do more than just prove it.

A rush of air interrupted the intermingled fields as the smaller of the two was handily trapped against the wall between BBop’s berth and her desk. A quick outpouring of more electric charge shocked ripples into little chills as Streamine’s servos cupped around the chiseled faceplates of BBop, still deepening their lips’ intimacy. 

Terse pressure snaked their digits to the wingbases to earn a little squirm and murmur directly into BBop’s intake, providing some semblance of confidence, well, more so than what she already harbored, that prompted action.

BBop intended to do the exact same thing. 

Sliding a knee between her thighs to  
support and to secure her, effectively Streamline wasn’t earning an escape soon. Up on her toes to earn height and to avoid resting on the plan BBop slyly had, and yet she wasn’t a match for the servo holding her by her chest armor to keep the full center of gravity in place.

Wing flutters and little squirms fought to work away from the domination like pinned prey and predator, but even she couldn’t break the kiss that pushed her helm back against the cold, stubborn surface behind. 

Woodsmoke filled fir and pine burned through their intermixed scents and whirlwinds stirred a firestorm of desire and charge and something focused on passion led on some atmospheric adventure bent on an Apollo discovery. 

Streamline was her inhale, BBop was her exhale. Shared breath. Bated vent. Little nips of dermas and then mere shared constellations battled in shared end goal. 

Never a white flag. 

“Breathe. You’re holding your breath,” BBop broke the rough kiss to softly mouthe into Streamline’s throat and then grip only slightly around her external neck cables in an excused steal of a scent with her wrists. 

“I’m taking you in,” She responded in staccato. Her servos dropped from BBop’s face slowly, trailing slow and light claws down her chest and midriff. At the hip speakers, she paused and traced the rims easily, smiling at the little shutter she got in return and the squirm against her, now. 

Simultaneously, she focused on the new glossa in her intake and the feeling of tripping sensors as well as having them tripped delicately.

BBop took her turn to reconnoitre. Little scars in her cheek met her like soft tissue, caressing each cell was her mission. Bright daystar springy feelings bubbled over in sunrise, sunset explosions with a raspberry tartness and warbled consistency. It felt so right.

Proof.

The frozen proof stranded in a tundra of dry bones. 

Dropping her knee to allow Streamline to stand on her own two pedes again, she kept close contact to remain the domineering factor in their unsolved equation. 

Small servos gripped onto the wrecker’s thighs and held tightly, hinting at something farther, sparking armor together slightly and pulling her closer. 

“Can you take me in, though?”

“I’d be happy to attempt.”

Sometimes they just didn’t make it to the berth, but that mattered merely nothing. The floor worked, and the seeker had enough ability to use the wall as a strong vault to drag the taller of the two down with her and took her own stance on top. Often her fast demeanor was abandoned for perfect solar savor of the moments of intimacy. Immediately the eclipse sprawled below her opened to her freely not in surrender but invitation. Gravity’s constant physically drew her closer. 

EM fields flared and interlocked together and held absolutely fast just as Streamline found the sensors on the wrecker’s helm roughly. With one servo, at least. The other slipped digits into the valve tentatively, skin exteriorly clashing like the sand’s erosion. Quick gasps, only a few, though, fueled a little more roughness and a swish of the more private and deep sensors, somehow already driving the wrecker close to sensory overload. 

“This is your proof."

“Of what?” Breathy whispers through the buzz of their electricity and cooling fans, “that you love me more? That you’re the dominant one?”

“You know what,” Streamline, half lidded and dominantly controlling of the situation stared down at her, slackening the pressure and any closed gate or irreconcilable passage melted away and her free range pooled low. 

“That I am yours?” BBop arched into the seeker moments later and gave herself over. At that, she accepted her within fully. Pulling her all the way close again, lips back feverishly again, held her own vocalizer quiet to hear the other smugly, taking her chance to move down and mark her neck, “And you...are mine

**Author's Note:**

> i wussed out at the end fr fr but i ain't no bitch so shut the hell up <3 
> 
> also im jk haha ilysm


End file.
